


How to Mend Broken Things

by LizaGreen



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adrien Agreste Knows, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir and Food, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, And Adrien's, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Hurt Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Identity Reveal, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Plagg Cares (Miraculous Ladybug), Protective Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), Protective Yuri Plisetsky, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov is Extra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29486634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizaGreen/pseuds/LizaGreen
Summary: Gabriel Agreste is in custody, identity revealed as Hawkmoth. Adrien is gone, sent away with relatives. The monks have arrived to collect Plagg and condemn his use within the world.Marinette is sent looking for her missing partner in an attempt to protect him from the monks and a potential deadly fate. Instead, she runs into Adrien, his cousin, his very extra caretaker and a few revelations.Fluff, angst and my inability to write something fluffy without throwing in a few horrifying things I noticed within the show.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Yuri Plisetsky, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	How to Mend Broken Things

**Author's Note:**

> No trigger warnings except if Gabriel's negligent/abusive behaviour triggers you already. Also, I will die on a hill gagging at the term 'You are my weather girl' used in the very first episode Stormy Weather, change my mind. My brain shrieked internally at the phrase said from a middle aged man to a minor.
> 
> (Excuse me, while I scream into a pillow wondering who the hell that let slip past the moderators)
> 
> Issues with the show aside (I have many a rant I could use), I hope this is fluffy enough to overrule the angst! There is a part 2 where we clear some things up, all translations for the Russian at the end (please be gentle with me, I used Google Translate for most of it, making a couple corrections where I saw errors, but my Russian is very beginner basic, let me know of any errors you spot!) and I hope you enjoy!

Plagg had always been the kwami the monks hated to use. Tikki was creation and good luck, all things good, and the monks loved to get her out and ask for her aid in helping the world. But Plagg? Plagg was a cat, a black cat, with all the connotations surrounding. He was catastrophe, destruction, decay. He was aloof, because he had to be, he brought down bad luck on his holders, because that was all he could do, he was greedy, because destruction was insatiable. He was everything they stood against.

Fu had been taught this and let him out anyway.

The monks, once returned, had capitulated to hear that Plagg was active in the world, had trembled in fear at the idea of Chat Noir. Ladybug was the new Guardian and they sought her out, but not before the identity of Hawkmoth was revealed. By the time they landed in Paris, Chat Noir had long since disappeared.

Marinette was heartbroken. Her partner was missing, Adrien was gone- sent away to relatives in Russia of all places to get away from the backlash against his Father and no doubt to recover- and now she had learnt that he was never meant to be in the first place. Tikki seemed remorseless in the face of the monks’ horror, refusing to even attempt to track him down. Something she didn’t even know the kwamis could do.

“Please, Marinette,” Monk Feng pleaded as they were leaving her house, slipping out under her parents' noses, “you must convince Tikki to take you to him. It is the only way to ensure that no great devastation occurs.”

“I... I’ll try,” Marinette promised, knowing already it would be useless. Tikki hadn’t mentioned the ability before- no doubt, she did so to ensure their identities were kept. Even with Gabriel Agreste caught and Nooroo back in the Miracle box, Duusu was still out there in Mayura’s hands and Nathalie had yet to be found. The body of Emilie Agreste had been quietly interred in the tomb built for her last year at the two-year mark of her being missing. Adrien had been taken out of school for a whole month that year.

Tikki was waiting for her in her room, flitting about restlessly. She paused in her fretting to send Marinette an apologetic look.

“Oh, Marinette, I’m so sorry to get you involved in all of this!” the little kwami said, small limbs hugging herself. Marinette stared blankly at her, not quite sure what she meant. “I couldn’t tell you before, because Plagg made me swear not to, but... I do know where they are.” She paused, flying around the room once more, almost frantic. “They just don’t want to be found.” Marinette stared, something like hurt worming into the numb feeling that had settled over her the moment the monks arrived.

“Why?” she managed. Tikki would have been wringing her hands if she had any.

“Because the monks would separate them. And... well, it’s been so long... it might kill him.” Marinette stared.

“What?” she whispered.

“Every time you use the Miraculous, you bond closer with us. It forms a connection between us and your very souls. The more suited to the Miraculous, and the more you use it, the closer we become until we are bonded for life. It is so very rare for Plagg to do so, and especially dangerous for his holders once done. If we were separated, you would be sick, perhaps lose some of your creativity but Plagg is destruction...” Tikki trailed off, looking apologetic. 

“That’s why the monks didn’t want him out? Because he was a danger to Chat?”

“No!” Tikki exclaimed, little arms raised. “No, not at all! They think Plagg has caused all the terrible things in the world, because he is destruction, missing the point that nothing can be created without destruction of the previous world. It is why we are intertwined. And... well... it’s been so _long_ since we were allowed out together. Almost a millennium in fact.” Marinette tried not to think too hard on the little blush donning her kwami’s cheeks, taking that in.

“Chat used to run out patrols far more often than me,” she said quietly. Cold realisation was settling down her spine. “I told the monks that.” Tikki nodded. “And they know that it could... kill Chat?” Tikki nodded again. She swallowed, feeling sick. “Tikki, where is he?”

There was a moment of silence as Tikki seemed to think.

“St Petersburg.” She blinked, glancing out of the window. It was mid-December. Snow had just settled on the rooftops outside. It would be far colder in the Arctic Circle, not the place for her poor kitty, who hated the cold. Over the years, his cat instincts got stronger, to the point where he admitted that showers were a struggle now with how much he hated water. He was always drawn to warm places, sleeping in patches of sunlight and purring next to her heater in the Winter.

“Tikki...”

“He won’t turn you away, if you want to visit,” she said quickly. “But it’s probably best if you use Kaalki, rather than a plane.”

“But... he doesn’t know who I am,” she pointed out. “Won’t it be weird if Ladybug turns up on his civilian doorstep?” Tikki was quiet a moment.

“After the battle, when he gave me the butterfly brooch, he told me only to let you know he knew, if it was necessary,” Tikki admitted. Marinette stared. It was true that she had blacked out for a moment or two after the fight with Hawkmoth, exhausted. She had woken to find Tikki with the Butterfly and Nooroo, and Chat was gone. When they met later, he said he had left in respect of her identity and privacy, having closed his eyes so he didn’t see her face. 

And now it was just another lie.

“So, he knows?” she asked, not sure whether she was sad or irritated. “And he lied to my face?”

“He wanted to respect your privacy,” Tikki said stubbornly. “And he didn’t want public opinion to turn on you in case... in case.” Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“What does that mean?” she snapped. Tikki frowned.

“It means what it means, Marinette,” she snapped back. “You _know_ we can’t reveal others identities!” Marinette flinched stepping back and biting her lip. She knew that, she _did,_ but right now she was just too concerned about her partner. And suspicious- _why_ had he not told her that he knew her identity? Why had he run away when she would have helped him? Why did it feel like he didn’t trust her?

There was silence in the room for a while, Tikki having flown away in a tiny huff while Marinette paced. But she knew that she had to talk to him at the very least. And to do that would mean leaving home and even France for a while. 

She needed to tell her parents. A task that, apparently, wasn’t as arduous as she first thought.

“And this is a Guardian thing?” her mother asked. Marinette had told her parents the truth after being caught transforming back one morning after an akuma. It had been a _long_ talk.

“Yes, Maman,” she agreed. “It might take me a few days though. I’ll be coming back in the evenings!”

“And she’ll be very safe with me and Plagg!” Tikki chimed in. Sabine Cheng smiled and offered the kwami a cookie.

“So long as you do so, and make sure to have your phone on you at all times, I trust you,” she said, kissing Marinette’s forehead. “I’ll get your Father to update your phone plan to international tonight. And make sure you stay aware of the time differences!” Marinette nodded quickly.

The next morning, bundled up in her warmest Winter woollens and thick coat and mittens, her parents wished her well. One quick transformation and fusion later, she was walking through a portal and into the biting air of St Petersburg.

She wasn’t prepared for the _cold_. 

As Ladybug, she had always been affected by the cold. Every Winter, she would be more sluggish, wanting to hibernate until spring. This was nothing like Paris Winters however, with their occasional snowfalls and milder temperatures. This was true cold, biting enough to take her breath away and freeze it in her throat. People passing the little alleyway she ended up in were either bundled up in copious furs, or not outside at all. The river was partially frozen over and snow was gently falling. 

It was also completely dark. At nine o’clock in the morning.

The sun was starting to rise, but hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon. Lights were on in all of the windows. For a moment, she considered never changing back and using the ice power up. However, she didn’t need to skate and she was trying to keep a low profile. So she whispered “Spots off,” and tucked Tikki and Kaalki into a pocket, wrapping her coat more securely around herself.

She was standing in an alley off to one side of what appeared to be a rink, although she couldn’t be sure with everything written in Cyrillic. She hoped she would find someone who spoke at least English if not French- she knew absolutely no Russian. There were what looked to be a couple of reporters stamping their feet in the cold, but very few others were around. She wondered where to start first.

“Try going inside, Marinette,” Tikki whispered, having crawled up to settle in her scarf, hidden by her hair. Shivering, Marinette nodded, if only to get out from the cold.

Inside the rather swanky reception area was gloriously warm. The counter was manned by one sleepy looking woman in her twenties, who perked up as Marinette entered. She looked oddly eager for something.

“Dobre ootra, chem ya mogu tebe pomoch'*?” Marinette blinked. The woman repeated the question again.

“Um... English?” she squeaked. “I don’t speak Russian.” The woman blinked at her a moment.

“Good Morning,” the woman said in heavily accented English. “How may I help you?” She spoke the words slowly and clinically. It was clear she didn’t have to use it often. 

“I am... um... looking for...” she trailed off. She didn’t even know Chat’s _name_ , and he was hardly going to look the same out of the suit. For a moment, she thought of giving up, barely hearing the doors open behind her. As she was thinking, the person behind her greeted the receptionist.

“Privet, Masha!” came a bright voice. “Kak dyela**?” 

“Kharasho,” the woman- Masha apparently- replied. “Prosto imet' delo s etim fanatom***.”

“Ah... Marinette?” Marinette blinked at use of her name, whirling around to see...

“ _Adrien?”_ she squeaked. “Wha- what you here doing are? I mean-” Her embarrassment was cut off by his gentle laughter, just as wonderful as the last time she had seen him.

“It’s good to see you too, Mari,” he said. “Sorry if Masha gave you a hard time, you’d be amazed with some of what she has to deal with.”

“Tvoy drooga, Alyosha****?” Masha asked.

“Da,” Adrien agreed. “Ona nichego ne znayet o figurnom katanii*****.” The woman gave him a funny look and he just shrugged, before switching back to French. “C’mon, I’ll get you some coffee from the café. You look freezing!” Blushing, Marinette followed in his wake, barely seeing the receptionist’s amused expression.

The next moment, she found herself in the bleachers of an ice rink, several skaters of different ages performing some impressive tricks, most being shouted at by an angry balding man off to one side. A tall, intimidating woman was leant against the barrier alongside a man with bright silver hair, watching a Japanese skater and blonde teenager. Adrien handed her a coffee with a polite smile.

“Vanilla macchiato was your favourite, right?” he asked.

“Um, yes,” she agreed, almost stupidly, too busy taking in all the differences in him. He had shot up to be a full head and a half taller than her, taller even than Chat, as well as putting on not only weight but muscle as well. He had shed a black fur coat and hat, revealing a black hoodie with cat ears and ripped blue jeans, thick black boots and completely unstyled blonde hair. If she didn’t know better, she would have called him a civilian Chat Noir.

He shifted awkwardly in his chair. “What brings you St Petersburg?” he asked. She was curious to hear a slight accent to the words ‘St Petersburg’, hinting towards the four months he had spent in Russia. She bit her lip, wondering how much to tell him. Tikki poked her.

“Oh, um, I was looking for an old friend,” she said, managing to get the words out in the correct order this time. “I had heard he was staying here, but I don’t know where. And it was so cold, I just sort of wandered in...” Adrien’s smile became warm, almost a smirk.

“Right place, right time, huh?” he joked. She blushed harder. _Come on, Marinette,_ she scolded herself, _it’s been two years since you met, you should be better at this._ Then again, she hadn’t been around new Adrien before.

“Yeah,” she agreed quickly, hoping it didn’t seem too off. “I guess so.” Adrien stretched languidly in his seat, almost cat-like.

“So, any way I could help in finding this friend of yours?” he asked, eyes wandering towards the rink. “I don’t really have much to do today, other than some homework.” She frowned.

“But what about school?” she asked. They had just broken up for the holidays, but that was because it had snowed hard enough for school to be cancelled, else she would have had to have waited until the weekend. “Or have they broken up for Christmas yet?” Adrien blinked, shrugging.

“Don’t know. I, err, am sort of home-schooled since we move around a lot,” he said, sipping at his coffee. She noted he drank it black. “But schools don’t break up for Christmas here in Russia til later, since Christmas here is January 7th.” Marinette stared and he shrugged again. “It’s more of a religious holiday than a public one. They celebrate what we call ‘Christmas’ on New Year’s Eve.” He looked pensive at that thought. “Although Vitya’s promised me a proper traditional Christmas in Germany.” Adrien seemed amused by the idea. 

“Vitya?” Marinette asked, confused. She hadn’t really caught what his relative's names were in Russia, but she was sure it wasn’t that. Adrien pointed down to the silver haired man who was now in the ice. He turned as if sensing the attention, revealing a face far younger than his hair colour would suggest, incredibly handsome with bright blue eyes and a heart-shaped mouth. He waved enthusiastically up at them and Adrien waved back. The blonde teenager flipped them off as he skated over, only to be rebuked by Vitya.

“He has guardianship of me and Yura while we are outside of Moscow.” Marinette frowned and Adrien seemed to sense her question without it being voiced. “Dedya gave me the choice, even if Yura was practically dragging me out the door with him. But, I like it. It’s like being part of a weird, slightly dysfunctional family.” He made a different but equally rude gesture back down at the blonde. The Japanese skater gave him a disapproving look.

Marinette wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

“That’s, um... that’s good, I suppose,” she said quietly. She wondered where this playful side of Adrien had been in France. This wasn’t Adrien Agreste, perfect model, boy and friend. This was... someone else. Adrien shot her a funny look, no doubt picking up on her tone.

“Marinette?” he asked. Before he could talk further, however, they were interrupted.

“Who’s this? What is she doing here during private practice?!” Marinette jumped at the deeply accented English, finding the balding man from earlier looming over them, face like thunder. A blood vessel in his head was ticking.

Adrien gave a bright, innocent smile, one which worked on most people. If possible, the man’s face turned even redder.

“Oh, Yakov, this is my good friend, Marinette,” he said brightly, switching languages flawlessly. “I promise she won’t leak anything! She doesn’t follow skating at all.” The blonde let out a wheeze as he was crushed in a sudden hug by Vitya, who looked deeply hurt for some reason. The Japanese skater face-palmed at whatever he said.

“Well, make sure she doesn’t,” the man grumbled. “The last thing we need is a leak right now.” Something flitted across Adrien’s face, his demeanour turning serious.

“Of course,” he said solemnly. “I understand how important this upcoming season is for everyone and I would never do anything to jeoperdise that. We can talk elsewhere if that will make you comfortable.” Yakov looked halfway to saying yes, when the blonde, having extricated himself from Vitya shouted up at the man.

“Oi, if she don’t know nothing, there’s no point kicking Alyosha out just for the sake of it. She hasn’t even had her phone out the whole time.” Adrien looked quietly grateful as Yakov deflated.

“Fine, you can stay. But if either Yuri’s routines end up on the internet, I’ll know exactly _who_ to hunt down,” he growled. He was gone a moment later. Adrien relaxed back in the plastic chair, sprawling ever more into the seats, cat-like.

“Um, what was that all about?” Marinette whispered, afraid to speak too loudly as Yakov returned to shouting at the skaters in the rink instead. The blonde boy skated away from the edge, cheeks tinted red as Vitya appeared the tease him over something, the Japanese skater looking rather proud of him. It was like watching her own parents whenever she won anything. 

“Oh, well... It’s kind of hard to explain,” Adrien said, shifting awkwardly in his seat and sipping at his coffee. 

“I’ve got time,” Marinette pointed out.

“I thought you were looking for a friend of yours?” Adrien wasn’t looking at her. “Daylight is short this time of year here. You’ve only got about five hours before the sun starts setting again.” Marinette shivered at the thought of the cold.

“What even is the temperature right now?” she complained, shivering despite being indoors which, even being an _ice rink,_ was warmer than outside. Adrien hummed, checking his phone.

“About minus 11 degrees Celsius.” Marinette squeaked. In no universe were her clothes suited to _that_ kind of cold. “Which I suppose is colder than average since apparently the average temperature for this time of year is minus 6.” He paused when she gave a violent shiver just _thinking_ about living in those temperatures.

“How do you _live_ here?” she squeaked, hardly thinking how that sounded. “How do you not _freeze_?” Adrien let out a small chuckle thankfully.

“By wrapping up warm,” he said in answer. “And picking the best times to leave the house unless you live with crazy people like Viktor.”

“I heard that!” drifted up from the rink. Adrien stuck his tongue out in the man’s direction. Marinette gave a nervous laugh, despite herself.

“So, who are we looking for?” he asked. Her mirth drifted away with the question.

“That’s, um... a long story too.” She didn’t know how to explain everything to him, how to tell him that she didn’t actually _know_ who she was looking for, had been hoping that Chat was running around much the same here as he did in Paris. In this cold, though? It was highly unlikely.

“Well, I’ve got nowhere else to be,” Adrien said easily. She wondered how he had so easily ducked out of explaining his own situation to put her on the spot. She bit her lip.

In her scarf, Tikki gave her cheek a little nudge. 

“I’m looking for Chat Noir,” she blurted out, flushing a little as she did so. Thankfully, it had been a quiet word vomit, rather than a shriek and no one else seemed to care what she was doing. “It’s, um, important.” Adrien blinked, eyebrows raising in some surprise.

“Chat Noir? I didn’t know he was in Russia.” There was something off with the way he said the words, as if he were lying. She wondered if he _had_ seen Chat, and was trying to cover for him. “Why are you looking for him and not Ladybug?” Marinette bit her lip again.

Should she tell him? Did she trust Adrien to keep the secret? Would Tikki be forced to take back the Miraculous and the Miraculous Box to the monks if she did? Being just a ‘friend’ of Ladybug wouldn’t quite cut it in this situation and because of Miracle Queen, everyone knew who most of the main Miraculous users were.

“Well, um...” Inspiration struck. “Ladybug, she once trusted me with a Miraculous, did you know that?” Adrien’s eyes went wide, but once again Marinette found herself thinking there was just something _off_ about it. _Chat must have told him. Maybe that’s why he isn’t that surprised that Ladybug sent me._ “Well, she said that the monks who guard the Miraculous Box, whatever that is, are looking for him. Something about Chat being in danger, and since they were watching her, she needed someone she trusted to warn him...” She trailed off, trying not to sound too outlandish.

It still sounded fake, even to her ears.

“Oh, um, wow,” Adrien said, shifting again. “Why... why does she think Chat Noir’s in danger? Like, if they guard the Miraculous, surely the monks would want to teach him too?” It was a thought that made sense, she supposed. Logical, even. But it was not what she had learnt, from Fu or the monks.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Marinette said quietly. “Ladybug said that her mentor trained her to be the Guardian but he wasn’t fully trained himself. Perhaps he made a mistake, and the monks don’t like Chat’s kwami?” It was as close as she could get to the truth.

Something closed off behind Adrien’s eyes, something cold and dark she had never seen in him before. It reminded her of Gabriel when they found him, crouched protectively over the chamber holding his wife.

She shivered.

“I see.” Even his voice was cold. Adrien stood, clearing he throat and stretching. Muscles rippled under his shirt. He held out a hand, smile stiff and awkward. “I might be able to help, actually. But, we’ll have to go back to my place- Chat's been pretty cautious these days and I was starting to wonder why.” Marinette’s heart clenched. _I was right, he did go to Adrien! But why?_

Adrien was gone before she could ask, down to the edge of the rink to talk with the silver-haired man. He blinked, looking startled, before glancing up at her and his face softened. They exchanged a few words, the blonde snapping something out. Now that they stood close together, Marinette could see the resemblance suddenly- high cheekbones, almost the same tone of blonde, the same shade of green eyes. The blonde skater was paler than Adrien, most likely due to a lack of sun from so much training, and was far more slender, but they looked strikingly similar for cousins. _Must run in the family,_ she thought as Adrien made his way back up to her.

“Viktor and the others will be meeting us at home,” he said tightly. She wondered where the sudden tension had come from as Adrien pulled his coat back on. He paused and stuck his hat on Marinette’s head, a gentle rush of his usual warmth returning. “It’s not far, I promise. And don’t tell Yura, but we can sneak some of his hot chocolate too.” Marinette gave a faint smile at the wink he sent her.

The walk was not long, just as Adrien promised, coming to a stop outside one of the many grand buildings that lined the canals of St Petersburg. Adrien pulled out a key, opening the first door, as Marinette shivered in the breeze. The sun may have come up by now, but the temperature had barely raised by a couple of degrees. They entered a grand hallway, stepping up a couple of flights of stairs and entering into a neat flat on the third floor.

“Just leave your shoes there,” Adrien said, kicking off his own boots and shucking his coat. He pointed to a shoe rack, which was far less tidy than any shoe rack she had ever seen, hanging his coat on the coat stand. There was fluff everywhere, some white, some grey and some brown.

She barely had time to register this before a dark blur whoofed its way over to them, happily wagging its tail. Adrien laughed as the dog jumped up to greet him, bending over as it licked his hands and wrists and then his face.

“And hello to you too, Makka!” Adrien laughed. Marinette carefully placed her shoes and coat in the correct places, keeping hold of her scarf. While the flat was blessedly warm, she was still a little cold, most likely leftovers from her Ladybug instincts. Adrien made no comment, beckoning her forward once released from the dog. “Sorry about that, this is Makkachin,” he said, introducing her to the dog who followed them enthusiastically. “They’re very friendly really.” Marinette smiled and scratched them behind the ears.

“They’re lovely,” she said quietly. They entered a large front room crossed with a kitchen in one corner. Curled up on the largest cat tree Marinette had ever seen was a fluffy white and brown ball, which yawned sleepily at them as they came in.

“That’s Potya, Yuri’s cat,” Adrien said, shuffling into the kitchenette, “and Makka’s Viktor’s. Apparently Yuuri also used to have a dog, but they passed away a couple years ago.” Marinette nodded, a little confused. 

“I suppose that explains why the cat is used to dogs,” she noted as Makkachin went to say hello to Potya. The cat gave the dog an unimpressed look through bright green eyes, shuffling away so they didn’t have to look at the dog. Adrien paused in the middle of washing his hands, blinking.

“Oh! No, um, confusing I know, but I actually live with two Yuri’s,” he said, setting a pan on the hob and moving to the fridge. “No, Potya belongs to my cousin. The other Yuuri, Katsuki Yuuri from Japan, well, Katuski-Nikiforov Yuuri now, he’s the one who lost his dog.” Adrien rifled through the fridge past piles of what appeared to be leftovers and fresh vegetables, pulling out a carton of milk. He sniffed it, made a face and dumped it in the sink, returning to the fridge. “Hang on a sec, I know we have in date milk in here somewhere.” Marinette, slightly embarrassed from her faux pas, wandered over to help.

The fridge looked like someone had tried, at one point, to keep it organised and then gave up after a while. Adrien finally located another carton of milk, this time seeming satisfied it was in date. Marinette resisted the urge to ask if she wanted him to check. As far as she knew, his father had never let him cook a meal in his life.

Adrien poured a generous amount of milk into a pot, shooing her out of the kitchen. He seemed to have it all in hand, so she settled herself carefully on the white leather sofa, which was incredibly soft and warm. Makkachin jumped up and settled themself half on her lap.

“Do you want some cream on top?” Adrien called from the kitchen. Marinette, slightly distracted by the drooling poodle on her lap, blinked before nodding.

“Yes please!” Adrien appeared moments later, two steaming mugs in hand.

“Sorry it’s just cheap whipped cream rather than the proper stuff,” he said, handing one mug over. “Living with three skaters, we’re always careful of dietary restrictions and stuff. But Yura loves cream on his blini in the morning when Vitya makes it. The only thing he _can_ actually cook.” Adrien laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. Marinette nodded, still a little stunned by all of this.

“It’s ok,” she reassured him. “I did kind of just turn up out of the blue and you’ve helped me so much already! I don’t know where I’d be without someone to translate for me!” She gave her own stuttering laugh, blushing and burying her nose in hot chocolate. A careful sip told her that, while not made with real chocolate, it was the expensive stuff, incredibly good and rich and dark. The dog had fallen asleep on her lap.

“I’m sure you would have been fine,” Adrien said quietly, smile soft and sincere. “You’ve always been capable of so much, Marinette.” She got the sense there was more to his words, something he was trying to tell her. She coughed awkwardly.

“So, um, you said you had seen Chat?” she said, wishing she could spend longer with him. She had already wasted a couple of hours when she had been searching for him originally. Adrien nodded.

“Yeah. He patrols the rooftops sometimes, not often cause of how cold it is, but enough to deter some of the less desirable residents of St Petersburg,” Adrien said, sipping at his own hot chocolate and giving Makkachin a scratch. They wriggled their bottom in delight. “He said he had to run from Paris after the whole mess with Hawkmoth.” He fiddled with the ring on his finger.

“Oh,” she said, looking away, just as awkward. “That must have been hard. For both of you.” Adrien sighed.

“You’re a lot kinder than most people I knew,” he said. “Everyone at the company thought I knew. Since, you know, Father was Hawkmoth and Nathalie Mayura...” He trailed off a moment, eyes fixed on the view outside of the window. “Then Aunt Amelie kept trying to take custody... It was a relief when Yuri and Viktor turned up. They had no reason to turn them down, whereas my Aunt has come under some fire about tax evasion in Britain. Honestly, I think the authorities were all too happy to be rid of me.” There was a bitter note there too. Marinette winced. _I caused this,_ she thought, swallowing heavily. _I didn’t make Gabriel Agreste Hawkmoth, but I did uncover him so publicly and cause him all these problems..._

_“_ I’m surprised you and Chat are so friendly if he and Ladybug caused you so much distress,” Marinette said sadly, and then winced at how callous that sounded. Adrien blinked, glancing over at her, startled.

“I could never...” He cut himself off, biting his tongue almost. He sipped at his hot chocolate and started again. “It wasn’t their fault, what Father did. I actually went to visit him, before I moved.” Marinette blinked, surprised. She hadn’t known that. Adrien turned away again, looking into his mug as if it could give him all the answers he was looking for. “He kept ranting about how he had done it for me, for Mother, for the good of our family. And all I could think of was how much Mother would be horrified, right up until I started to wonder... I mean, Nathalie wasn’t the original user of the Peacock and... Father and Mother, they went to Tibet right before Mother got sick and...” Adrien tossed the mug of hot chocolate back, fingers tight around it. “Sometimes, I wonder whether they ever cared about me at all,” he spat bitterly, tears in his eyes. 

Marinette didn’t know how to answer, simultaneously horrified and broken-hearted for him.

“I didn’t know... Didn’t realise that your mother had the Miraculous once,” Marinette managed eventually. This was making her head spin.

“It broke,” Adrien said flatly. “I don’t know how, or when, or why. But it broke and it killed her and it was killing Nathalie too. And Father didn’t care about that either because once he made his wish, the world would be right. Except, you know, without... distractions.” Marinette shivered, seeing Gabriel again in his face. Hearing that cold and calculating presence behind his son’s words.

A horrifying conclusion started to form in her head.

“Adrien, are you saying... what I think you’re saying?” she whispered. All thoughts of Chat had suddenly evaporated with the revelation of the depths of Gabriel’s insanity. Adrien gave her a bitter smile, saying nothing. 

It took her five seconds to put the mug down, dislodging the dog as she threw herself across the sofa to give him a hug. Adrien gave a choked sob into her shoulder, holding her just as tightly back.

“He didn’t deserve you,” she growled, fierce and angry and wishing she could smash the man’s face in all over again. “He didn’t deserve to have a son as good and wonderful as you.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Princess,” Adrien said into her shoulder wetly. “But I do wonder sometimes, if we were all made for each other.” Marinette froze, stiff. _A coincedence,_ she thought to herself. _It probably doesn’t mean anything. There’s no way..._

_“_ What do you mean?” she breathed, still holding him, her mind working fast. Because surely, _surely_ , there was no way that Adrien was...

“The rules say we can’t show ourselves,” Adrien whispered back. “I wanted to, so bad, but after Hawkmoth was revealed and I found out everything... The Black Cat was made for bad luck and destruction. And that’s all we ever were, the Agreste’s. Unlucky and broken from the day I was born.”

“Oh, _kitty_ ,” she sobbed. “No, no, never. You are so much more, so much _better_ , than they made you to be. And... and _I_ still want you, even if they never did.”

Adrien curled up smaller and cried silent, wrenching tears, for all that his parents never gave him.

**Author's Note:**

> *Good Morning, how may I help you?  
> **Hi Masha! How are you?  
> ***Good, just dealing with this fan.  
> ****Your friend, Alyosha? (feminine form)  
> *****Yes, She knows nothing about figure skating


End file.
